


This Impossible Year (If I Could Hold You)

by Krasimer



Series: All Your Tragedies [7]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daniel finds Percival, Good Original Percival Graves, M/M, Original Percival Graves Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Original Percival Graves Needs a Hug, Sad and Happy, They Found Each Other Again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:16:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: The outside of Kowalski's was simply, plainly decorated and almost homely. If it were a woman, it would be called 'Handsome' and if it were a man, it would be called nearly featureless. The owner's name was carved in a dark brown script above the door and the two front windows seemed to beckon gently. Despite the plain outside, there was something alluring about the place.Daniel took a deep breath before he stepped inside, finding himself at the back of a group of people. They were talking to each other, which was rare enough, but almost everyone was smiling. The air around them was warm, scents of various pastries and bread and other such things surrounding them.It tugged, however gently, at the memories behind what felt like a wall in his head.





	

His boss had ordered him to go report on the new bakery in town.

Something about the place being amazingly popular, a hit with every crowd. Half of New York eating there, handmade pastries and bread that reminded everyone of a warmth they had half-forgotten as they grew up. Part of it was a punishment, Daniel thought as he took the streetcar to Kowalski's bakery. His boss had noticed him acting a little strange, caught up in his own mind, he had missed a very important detail in a story.

So he was on the small fish for a week.

The small stories were never as interesting, never quite as thrilling to write about as the big ones were. In the story of a man finding a strange mess in what had once been the residence of a woman named Barebone and her children, Daniel had forgotten to get the name of the man who had told the neighbor that there had been a bloodstain on the floor. His boss had seen it as a malfunction, his editor had seen it as a loss, and Daniel had been handed a fluff piece about the strangely popular bakery near the heart of New York.

Checking his notes again, Daniel sighed, hopping off the street car and tucking his papers away into his jacket.

The outside of Kowalski's was simply, plainly decorated and almost homely. If it were a woman, it would be called 'Handsome' and if it were a man, it would be called nearly featureless. The owner's name was carved in a dark brown script above the door and the two front windows seemed to beckon gently. Despite the plain outside, there was something alluring about the place.

Daniel took a deep breath before he stepped inside, finding himself at the back of a group of people. They were talking to each other, which was rare enough, but almost everyone was smiling. The air around them was warm, scents of various pastries and bread and other such things surrounding them.

It tugged, however gently, at the memories behind what felt like a wall in his head.

The man he vaguely remembered, the one in his dreams, the one with the gorgeous eyes and tailored outfits. If he actually existed, he would be in a place like this. The bakery was exactly the place to find him, Daniel thought as he looked around once more. It seemed magical, the place to be if you wanted a fairy tale.

"Oh, sweetie, you're the reporter, right?"

A woman's voice interrupted his train of thought and he turned to look at her. She was grinning, her eyes crinkling with the intensity of it, and her blonde curls bobbed when she shifted on her feet. "C'mon, Jacob heard you was comin' in, he'll be pleased to see ya!" she gestured for him to follow as she started walking towards the back. "I'm Queenie, by the way. Queenie Goldstein. What's your name?"

"Daniel Razner," he glanced at a photo on the wall as they passed it, missing the way her eyes went wide and her smile dropped off her face. "This place only opened a few months ago, right?"

"Yeah," Queenie's voice shook as she answered him. "Jacob's been workin' his heart out to get this place goin'. Every part of it has been his baby, kinda. He's so much happier workin' here than he was at the canning factory. Makes me happy to see him so happy, y'know?" she walked to the door that led to the back, gently pushing past the customers in line. 

"Oh, he your fella?" Daniel grinned at her.

"Yeah," Queenie giggled, her hands clasping together in front of her. "Been seein' each other when we can, real glad he and I found each other. Oh, but you don't want to hear about that."

Daniel shrugged, pressing his hand against his chest and pulling off his hat with the other, flopping it gently over the hand on his chest. "Oh, I'm a bit of a romantic myself. Ain't got a girl myself, always glad to hear when someone found that tiny bit of happiness. World's a little rough sometimes, gotta hold onto what you can. If somethin' comes along to make you happy," his grin slipped slightly, a sadness in his eyes. "Whatever it is, you hold onto it with the tightest grip you got."

"You got someone too," Queenie studied his face, a frown twisting her lips, ever so slightly. "Or...You did. You're talkin' like you lost someone."

"Memory's a bit shot," Daniel put his hat back on. "Don't know if I lost someone or not. Ain't had anyone come lookin' for me, so I guess I didn't, but there's things...Things that make me think there should be someone."

"Empty houses," she shook her head as she stopped in front of an office door, knocking gently. "Jacob, got someone here to see ya!"

Distracted, Daniel didn't even think to question her comment about empty houses. 

 

It was an hour long interview.

It wasn't supposed to be, Jacob Kowalski had just been so...Oddly intriguing that Daniel had stayed for far longer than he had planned. The man's work was fascinating, the ideas for the shapes of his pastries and bread coming from his dreams. It added a touch of magic, Jacob had said, grinning nervously. His hands were almost trembling as he explained his past, having come home from the war and wanting something other than ugly death surrounding him.

He had lost friends, he'd explained quietly. He wanted to make others happy.

The long line of customers was gone when Daniel walked back out into the main part of the bakery. There was a man sitting at a table with Queenie, the blonde woman's hair glimmering in the sunlight. She was facing Daniel and Jacob, her eyes lighting up when she saw the baker.

Sitting in front of her, the man with her, his back to them...

His hair was dark, graying at the edges, curling around his ears gently. He wore an overcoat, his hands clasped around a mug of something warm. The steam curled up around his fingers, the bone-deep exhaustion obvious in the way he held himself. Something about him screamed of fear, of wanting to curl into a corner and hide away, but he was speaking to Queenie, obviously enjoying the conversation. 

"Hey," Jacob walked over to them, taking Queenie's hand when she held it out to him, their fingers clasping together like they belonged that way. "What's going on?"

"We were talkin' about somethin'," Queenie looked at him, her eyebrows raised. "Interview done?"

"Yeah," Jacob gestured back to Daniel with his other hand. "Hey, do you want somethin' to eat? We're closing for lunch, you probably ain't had a meal in too long. I've heard from a few buddies of mine, reporters focused real hard on their jobs, that sometimes they don't have time until they get back home again."

"If it's not too much trouble," Daniel shrugged. "And yeah, some of us don't eat until we get back home. Bad habits and all that."

The man sitting with Queenie had stiff shoulders, his hands clasped so tightly around the mug he held that Daniel thought it was going to shatter. He was practically shaking, the poor guy, and he still hadn't turned around. "Th-That's no way to go about it," he muttered. "Going to starve yourself and suffer besides."

"I've survived this long," Daniel shrugged again. "Any reason you're thinkin' like that?"

"It's not healthy," the man muttered, hunching in on himself. 

"I'm a grown man, I think I'm capable of takin' care of myself," rolling his eyes, Daniel stepped closer, frowning. "Besides, you ain't my mother."

"No, I'm not, but maybe someone should tell her you're neglecting your health," the man almost snapped the words out, still clutching his mug for all he was worth. "Your accent still gets thicker when you get angry. I should go," he slid back in his chair, finally letting go of the porcelain and standing up, turning so that Daniel still couldn't see his face. 

It annoyed him, which was no excuse for what he did next.

He grabbed his arm, yanking him back and still. "What exactly do you know about me? If you know enough to tell that, why don't-"

It was him. 

A punch to the gut would have been kinder, Daniel thought as he studied the man's face. A slap to the face, a broken rib, anything but the painful longing he felt when he met the man's eyes. "I-"

"I'm sorry," the man whispered, his dark eyes pinned at some point on the wall. "I shouldn't..."

"You're..." Daniel's hand slid down his arm to his wrist, still not letting go. "Uhm, just a second," he closed his eyes, racking his mind for a moment. "...Percival," the memories were faded like they had happened an entire lifetime ago, but he remembered enough to say the man's name. His hair was grayer than he remembered and his eyes were haunted, the sort of look a man got when he had marched through Hell and come out the other side alive. It was an expression that told an entire story and Daniel wanted to read it. He wanted to write down every word and press his fingers to his temples and wipe away every last tear.

The instant longing was something he could have lived without, he thought as Queenie stood up and left the table.

The magical shop, the wonderland of fantastical creatures made in dough and fruit and chocolate, of course that was where the man would be. Dreams couldn't compare to the real thing, could never be half as vivid and breathtaking as the man in front of him. Daniel wanted to hold onto him, push away every nightmare until there was nothing but sweet dreams.

He dropped his hand as quickly as if it had burned him.

There were still people around, Daniel scolded himself. He had no proof of his memories being anything other than dreams and he had heard so many things about people like him being dragged off to see some doctor and changed in a horrible way. Damaged and hurt, like they weren't anything but beasts who needed convincing. If Jacob or Queenie or even the man he thought was named Percival took any offense to his actions, he'd be hauled off before he could shout.

"Here," Queenie pushed a chair towards him. "Both of you sit down, we got the curtains closed and the front door locked. The other workers are off on their breaks, so we got the whole place to ourselves."

"Thank you," maybe-Percival muttered. 

"Not a thing you need to worry about, sweetheart," Queenie shook her head. "And no, Daniel Razner, we're not the sort to get you taken in for that. Percival here, he's one of ours. We like him, and from the way you're worried, I think we like you, too. How's about the both of you talk for a bit?"

She smiled at them, put a gentle hand on Percival's shoulder for a moment, then wandered away to sit with Jacob. 

"Hello," Percival looked at him, his expression wary. 

Daniel looked back at him. "I remember you," he said quietly. "I mean...It's not right. There's somethin' wrong with the memories, but I definitely remember you."

"I still have your ridiculous tea at my house," Percival said after another moment. "I found it right when I thought I had made you up. I was held captive by someone who pretended to be me for a long time," his chest heaved once, his breath catching. "And I thought I'd dreamed up someone as lovely as you. I came home from work and I looked around and you weren't there and I went to make something to drink and the damn orange pekoe was sitting in my cupboard."

The wall came down, brick by tumbling brick, and Daniel smiled. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, voice nearly silent. The need was sudden, an urge he almost couldn't ignore, and he felt desperate.

Percival glanced at the windows and the door, then turned back towards Daniel and nodded. "Please don't leave again," he muttered, pressing their foreheads together. On the tabletop, their fingers were twining together and Percival made a sound that had Daniel wanting to fight the entire world for making his lover feel that much sorrow. He surged forward, pressing their lips together, and both of them nearly sobbed.

"I am never," Daniel hissed when he pulled back. " _Never_ leaving you again. The weird blue light and the attacks and the magic being thrown around New York...You're gonna have to explain that, Percival."

"I will," his lover laughed, almost hysterical in the small amount of humor. "Just stay with me and I will explain everything."

**Author's Note:**

> Going to quietly post this and walk away again. Happy holidays, everyone, whatever you may celebrate, and I hope you have an awesome New Year.


End file.
